


Wounded on the Coast

by KSilverland



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 16:48:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5341349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KSilverland/pseuds/KSilverland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I thought this was supposed to be a quiet route, Aveline.”<br/>“Would I have asked you along if I expected it to actually be quiet?” The Captain of the Guard glanced up from where she cleaned her sword on a dead man’s jerkin, her smile only barely concealed by the tilt of her head.<br/>Hawke snorted. “Fair point.” </p><p>A routine run on the coast goes awry when Hawke takes an arrow meant for Fenris.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wounded on the Coast

**Author's Note:**

> Meant as a character study for my purple mage Marian Hawke, and her relationship with Fenris. Set a few weeks after their initial night together, I wanted to get to know both Hawke and Fenris better, and why not throw them for a situation where feelings would obviously be very evident, even if they refuse to talk about them?

Hawke scrubbed absently at her wrist and managed only to further smear the dirt and core that darkened her pale skin. Even the sleeves of her robe were covered. A by-product of letting that last raider get so close, she supposed. “Sodding bastards. I thought this was supposed to be a quiet route, Aveline.”

“Would I have asked you along if I expected it to actually be quet?” The Captain of the Guard glanced up from where she cleaned her sword on a dead man’s jerkin, her smile only barely concealed by the tilt of her head.

Hawke snorted. “Fair point.”

“You’d get bored if it was quiet, Hawke.” Varric grinned at her from across the small clearing, his hands on Bianca’s stock.

She crouched down with a chuckle, her weight braced on her staff, and examined the lightning charred corpse at her feet. She rummaged through his pockets, though that only yielded a handful of coppers and a worn hemp band that seemed to have no place in the possession of a battle-hardened mercenary. “No luck here. Fenris?”

The elf grunted from her left, a few feet away from where she crouched, his own hands occupied in the pockets in another of the dead raiders. His brows were drawn together, his lips curved down in a scowl.

Hawke sighed, when more of a reply was not forthcoming. “I’ll take that as a no on raider headquarters location hints, then.” Aveline shot her a look that she pointedly ignored. Were she and Fenris on the best terms at the moment? No. Was that Aveline’s business? Certainly not. “We should move on, if we can’t--” Something gleamed in the rocks above Varric’s head, cold as steel and bright as it was brought to bear. She was already moving as she shouted, “Archer!” and lunged between their armored attacker and its intended target.

The arrow sunk home two inches below her collarbone and into her right shoulder as it tore easily through robe and flesh alike. The impact threw her backwards and into the dirt at Fenris’ feet as the familiar hiss-thunk of one of Bianca’s bolts striking home filled the air.

The archer slumped over the rock before her with the clatter of armor, a bolt between her eyes.

Hawke grinned from the dirt. “Nice shot.”

Fenris was at her side within the span of a breath, Aveline and Varric just behind him. She tried to wave him off as he hovered over her and helped her upright, his brow still furrowed and a scowl still on his face.

“Your face’ll get stuck like that, if you’re not careful.”

The scowl only deepened. “Hawke, you’re wounded.”

“I’m aware. Help me up.”

The crease between his brow furrowed more severely, yet he did as she asked, his hands under her arms as he lifted her with ease.

Her world spun, adrift in a red haze of pain as she found her feet, only to clear to the sight of white hair, silver lyrium, and dark skin around green, green eyes: greener than the fields around Lothering in the springtime, when she and Bethany used to--

“Hawke?” Fenris’ voice was strained, rough with an emotion she couldn’t place. Anxiety? For her? She doubted it. He’d left her, after all, hadn’t he?

“I’m fine.”

Varric scoffed. “You’ve got an arrow in your shoulder, Hawke.”

“Oh hush.”

“Hawke, you need a healer.” Aveline was at her other side now--when did she move?--and braced her by her elbow.

“Too bad we left Anders back in Kirkwall.”

Varric chuckled. Aveline shot him a glare. Fenris couldn’t seem to stop watching her. Not that she minded. “Right. Home then. Or to the clinic. Something.”

“Hawke.”

She could hear the warning in Aveline’s tone. She attempted to shrug both her, and the elf off, only to send pain lancing through her torso. It took the breath from her lungs, and her knees buckled beneath her. Aveline kept her upright. The woman's armor was soothingly cool, against the noon-day sun.

“Stay with us Hawke.”

Her gaze lazily flicked to Varric. “I think I might be going into shock.”

Her companions frowned as she swayed against Aveline. Fenris was close enough to touch on her other side. She wanted to touch him. Still wanted to kiss him, the sodding bastard.

“Definitely shock.” Her world went black as she sagged against Aveline’s side, and green eyes wide in panic were the last thing she saw.


End file.
